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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24784585">I Think I'm Losing My Mind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelloIExist/pseuds/HelloIExist'>HelloIExist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Black Friday - Team StarKid, The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, Pre-Canon, Wilbur turning Evil</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:34:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,288</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24784585</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelloIExist/pseuds/HelloIExist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There was something. Something calling him towards it. Tendrils reaching. Forcing its way into his mind. Painful. Loud. Drawing him in. Words screamed at him in some ancient tongue. Splitting him open. A force slipping out of its realm and forcing itself upon an awaiting vessel. Screaming. Pain. Destruction. The power had found itself a worthy puppet. Resistance would never work. Come to the portal. Wake the darkness. Abandon the world of mortals and their selfish reality. Suffering. Rebirth. Creation ended and reborn. The pull would not be resisted. Then he opened his eyes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Wilbur Cross &amp; Wiggly, Wilbur Cross/John McNamara, Xander Lee &amp; Wilbur Cross, Xander Lee/John McNamara</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Your Tainted Mind Will Be Your Judge and Your Jury</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was something. Something calling him towards it. Tendrils reaching. Forcing its way into his mind. <em>Painful. Loud</em>. Drawing him in. Words screamed at him in some ancient tongue. Splitting him open. A force slipping out of its realm and forcing itself upon an awaiting vessel. <em>Screaming. Pain. Destruction</em>. The power had found itself a worthy puppet. Resistance would never work<em>. Come to the portal. Wake the darkness</em>. Abandon the world of mortals and their selfish reality. <em>Suffering. Rebirth.</em> <em>Creation ended and reborn</em>. The pull would not be resisted. Then he opened his eyes.</p><p>Wilbur Cross stared at the familiar lines carving up his panelled ceiling. He could feel the familiar weight of John’s arms around him. The familiar smell of gunpowder in the training room. Agents talking. The cigarette he had smoked before bed leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. All was still there. He was still home. Everything was ok. He exhaled, trying to shrug away and forget the voices in his head. He felt something else. Faint tear track on his own face, lingering from the horrors he’d confronted in his sleep. He sat up. His partner’s arms slipped from his torso as he settled against the pillows. A shuddered breath. Erase. Stop thinking. Kill the echo that attempted to separate him from his humanity. He was all still there, brain not yet irreparable. Twisted but recovering. The dreams would stop. He could force them to. He would sever the connection before it took root. Whatever was on the other side could not harm him. He had planned too hard to let it<em>. Peace. Calm.</em></p><p>“Cross?” The other man’s voice was soft, but he could hear the concern and sleep deprivation in his tone. How long had John been awake? He carefully turned his head to the source of the voice. His husband was still there, sat beside him and waiting, concerned. John had nothing more to say other than to address the man. He would speak when he wanted to. And he didn’t yet. A silence. Worry hung in the air. But the pair understood each other. Sat beside each other. Quiet. John’s hand on Wilbur’s until the man could produce some semblance of sense.</p><p>“The nightmares came back.” His voice was very matter of fact. John understood every word. The implications of what he was saying. Their agency had a growing secret, Wilbur’s nightmares at the centre of it. It would help them reach somewhere no one else ever had. But at what cost? Perhaps the greatest pair of operatives they had ever had.</p><p>“Shall we tell the others?” John also had a calm way about him. It had been months since the nightmares were a common occurrence, but their return was no surprise. No surprise since PEIP’s discovery. He was met with a nod. His husband’s silent agreement as both men swung their legs out of bed, Wilbur taking longer than his partner. He had twisted thoughts. Something gnawing away at his brain. The portal. Their latest experiments. He resisted the call. He had to resist it. He knew of the terror that awaited him. He couldn’t let himself be torn apart.</p><p> </p><p>The halls of PEIP were strangely empty. But that was to be expected. Three in the morning was a strange time for two agents to be active. They knew they weren’t alone. Most were conducting research in solitude but none were in the halls at this hour.</p><p>Wilbur could hear something in the back of his mind. Shake it away. Don’t make it clear. Not real. He could keep it hidden from all other agents but John was the issue. He knew him better than he knew himself. He would be able to tell that he wasn’t normal. That something was inside his head. He tried to keep himself quiet. He could keep a secret with himself. But John recognised the signs of a secret. As he too was hiding one. One Wilbur didn’t know of. One that could hurt them both beyond repair. But neither of them would ever bring it up. Therefore, they kept walking.</p><p><em>Open it. They trust you. Join.</em> The voices were louder and circling in his brain. <em>Stop it</em>. He screamed into his mind, hoping the firm tone he had imagined would silence the incessant chattering, but it didn’t. The voices didn’t stop in his mind, they didn’t stop trying to tear him apart. <em>You mean nothing here. Worthless. Join the stronger power</em>. He tried to argue back. <em>No, I’m not. You can’t pull me over</em>. His rebuttals were just as worthless as the noises deemed him. <em>Useless. You mean nothing to them. Don’t you want to be free? Power. Liberation. Control.</em> Louder and louder, swirling through his head. The constant torments turned to words being uttered from his own lips. Cursing and mumbling the harsh words under his breath.</p><p><em>Meaningless. Free the dark. Give yourself up. Find a new purpose. Faith. Belief. Strength. Power. New life. Rebirth. New world. God. Worthless. Purposeless here. You mean nothing. </em>He let out a genuine scream of agony. The visions from his nightmare had come now returned in his mind. His mind torn apart. Something pulling him apart piece by piece, separating Wilbur from all that made him human. He was letting out erratic mumblings of all the words in his mind as he was gently guided to the ground. The minute he was no longer on his feet, he began clawing at his skin. Despite the horrifying visions of being taken apart. He would gladly let it happen if it separated this piece from him. He was letting out protests now. <em>No. I’m not. I mean something. Portal stays closed</em>. Others had entered the room as they heard the evidence of Wilbur’s strained mental state. John was over him, hand on his shoulder, trying to bring him back into the present. He looked around at the agents gathered around them, watching their Colonel writhe on the ground.</p><p>“Nothing to see here. Carry on.” John advised, but he knew they would never listen. He was a lower rank than most of them. Barely a lieutenant yet. They had no reason to listen to him when before them was the clear proof that the portal was allowing something in. That it was praying on their strongest. Throw off the power balance. John could tell what this meant. By the time Wilbur came to, the heads would have stripped him of his title, forced him off of the premises, not wanting to take responsibility. He couldn’t let his husband lose everything. He called for a doctor. Someone. Help his husband stay alive. Fight off the demons inside of him. What he wasn’t calling for was the source of the other secret. Xander joined him at the man’s side and they shared a single look. Their affections could not get in the way of Wilbur’s life. Not now. Wilbur was still rambling under his breath as he began to come to, eyes rolled back into his skull.</p><p>
  <em>Wake. Let him in. Open.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Taken Over</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>It was an odd vision. Swirling, swimming, never truly settling. He couldn’t feel anything. He couldn’t feel a stable surface beneath him. But he wasn’t falling, just lying there. Not laying. Standing. No. He couldn’t tell which. He couldn’t perceive what was exactly happening. He felt dizzy, no like he was going to be sick or anything but like there was something stirring. He could feel a slow, dull pain spreading through his body, not enough to draw a reaction but enough that it was noticeable. He tried to reorient himself, figure out why he felt the way he did. He could see a light. It was distant, it was dim. He tried to step forward, expecting to fall from the lack of support under him. But he didn’t. He could keep walking, and he did. He started running towards the light. It had a weak colour to him, it was green. He kept running. His arms felt heavy, legs too. It was hard to walk but now he couldn’t stop. He had made a choice. He was going somewhere, towards something. He couldn’t stop himself. He actively made the choice to let something in. Wait. His body was resisting, trying to stop himself from going towards the green light. Closer. Closer. Closer. Stop. He shouted at himself. But it wouldn’t. He reached it. The blinding light taking over his vision. He was on the ground now. He could feel it under him. The feeling was back. His brain was being torn apart. He could feel that happening. Piece by piece, a searing pain through his skull. He let out a muted scream. He couldn’t stop whatever it was.</em>
</p><hr/><p>Xander sighed as he tapped his fingers on his work bench, waiting for the man on the hospital bed before him to wake up. The bed had been wheeled in minutes before, forcing Xander to use his lab as the new hospital wing. Most medical things were not his area of expertise, but he felt the need to help Wilbur. As much as it hurt to be aiding John’s husband, it was what was right. He listened to the man’s senseless ramblings. The words seemed random but the conviction in Wilbur’s tone indicated a deeper meaning. He was still passed out, but his eyelids were half open. All Xander could see was the white of his eyes, the rest still rolled back into his skull. It was a strange effect. Xander sighed and moved closer, once again taking vitals. They had been like this for hours. Wilbur mumbling, Xander running tests. No one else in PEIP’s med bay. He could hear arguing down the hall. Wilbur’s name repeated again and again. He was a liability. John was arguing back. Close the portal. It was what was putting Wilbur at risk. Close the portal. Xander blocked it out as he continued checking Wilbur over. The man had gone quiet, limp, eyes returned to normal. They were open. He managed to look at Xander. The man neared him.</p><p><br/>“Are you feeling alright?” Xander asked softly, realising that loud noises may trigger the man once again. He knew the answer to his own question. Wilbur was at risk of losing his livelihood. His life as well. Wilbur shook his head in a silent response, wincing at the pain of moving. He felt different now. Not all together human. But he couldn’t admit that. Couldn’t admit to the feeling of something festering and growing, a power unknown to them. In fact, they hadn’t known how dangerous their decision had been.<br/>“Where’s John?” Wilbur asked quietly, looking up at Xander with a complex expression. On one hand it was worry, the other was relief that he was still alive. That the voices had subsided, he was still there. Xander frowned at the mention of the General’s name but continued on none the less. </p><p><br/>“He has a mission in a few hours, other than that, I am unsure.” He sighed, turning away again. “This isn’t exactly my role here. Let me know when you’re ready to leave, we can get back to actually meaningful work.” Wilbur frowned at his tone, where was something there but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He sat up, trying to stretch. He turned slightly, too fast. His vision blurred and he let out an audible groan. Ignore it. He had already shown everyone his weakness, he had to prove that he wasn’t what they thought.</p><p><br/>“Thank you.” He sighed softly as he managed to focus on Xander’s face. The other man shrugged. He didn’t seem to even care about Wilbur’s pain. Wilbur sighed. He shouldn’t bother trying to understand the other man. He didn’t deem him to have any importance. He sighed, his vision had taken on some sort of weird haze, but he didn’t remember how. He appeared to have forgotten about the void he had seen, forgotten about the green light enticing him, pulling him closer. He looked over at Xander again, who had gone quiet. It was a tense silence between the pair. Almost a challenge of who would look away first. Who would admit themselves lesser by speaking or looking away? Wilbur broke, sighing softly and looking around the room.</p><p><br/>“I should go, I don’t want to hold you up.” He mumbled softly, wrapping his hand around the armrest on the side of the bed, forcing himself to stand up. Vaulting to his feet with seemingly no effort, his movement assisted by something else. The moment he was standing, he broke. Vision swimming and all melding together. The regular colours of all objects in the room flickering to an unnatural green shade and back again, a continuous battle between the two shades. He kept his grip tight on the armrest, eyes darting around the room.</p><p><br/>Xander was watching in abject horror. It was a truly strange and distressing sight to see, the man before him shaking, veins in his neck pulsing and spasming slightly. He swayed on his feet, rocking back and forth on his heels, face forming into an expression of terror. He seemed confused and horrified by his surroundings, something so uniquely not Wilbur that it was even noticeable to the physicist. Xander considered for a moment. While his own logic and feelings were telling him to not help the colonel. But he had to, not for any reason of caring but out of his own duty. He approached Wilbur, gently trying to push him back into a sitting position. He had his hand on the other man’s chest and back, steading him carefully and trying to put him down. Wilbur followed him movement, collapsing back at Xander’s slightest push. He lay there, eyes once again back in his skull, once again in his own reality. Xander sighed, pressing his palm to his forehead slightly before removing his glasses, cleaning them to relieve his own stress. Seeing Wilbur so helpless was strange. The man was practically his boss- scratch that- he was his boss. He had a duty to aid him through all that was happening due to PEIP’s negligence. But what about his own feelings? What about John? What about the fact that he wanted the life Wilbur had? What about the secret that he was holding with the man’s husband? Even thinking about it was too much. It served as the reminder that he was in the wrong. That no matter how much he wished and willed it, he was too late. He was always in the wrong, he was consciously destroying the marriage of two people he knew all too well. His superiors. He covered his face and slumped back on his seat. So angry with no one but himself. Tensing and clenching his knuckles against his forehead. Stop thinking about it. He had come to terms with that the month before. They had discussed it together. He and John knew they were both at fault for their connection and stolen visits to each other. Why couldn’t Xander wrap his head around that now? He would never replace Wilbur. He never would be good enough. He wasn’t good enough. John had a husband and it was tearing him apart inside. He focused on the dirt-covered glass in front of him, picking away the particles. He looked up at a set of footsteps and a voice.</p><p><br/>“Xander?” </p><p><br/>John’s voice was once again soft as he looked into the lab, hands clasped behind his back. There was a noticeable bruise over one eye but Xander chose not to comment as he looked over, sliding his glasses back into place. </p><p><br/>“How is he?” The long-haired man sighed as he made his way to Wilbur’s side, hand gently curling around the one of the still shaking man. He kept their hands conjoined despite seeing Xander’s expression of almost hurt. The physicist cleared his throat.</p><p><br/>“He’s fine, just struggling to stay awake for very long.” Xander moved over to Wilbur’s side as well, looking at Wilbur’s shaking hand clasped by John’s own. “I can’t do very much, I’m not exactly a doctor. And ours deem hundreds of agents shot in the line of duty a more pressing matter than Wilbur’s sporadic episode.” He was trying to keep the smug tone of his voice away. He wasn’t glad. He didn’t want Wilbur to be hurt. He hated those thoughts. They didn’t reflect him at all, he cared about John and Wilbur, he didn’t want any harm to befall any of the agents there. But it may come to that. He hadn’t completely put it all together yet. Hadn’t put together the fact that a dark force was growing within Wilbur. He sighed and shook his head, only just noticing that John was talking. He tried to tune back in.</p><p><br/>“-They’re insisting that Wilbur is forced to take a break, until we can work out where his dreams and the voices are coming from. I tried to argue back, they didn’t take an agent arguing with them well, hence this.” He gestured to the new bruise across his face. It was clear he was trying to make a joke out of it, but he couldn’t, he sighed. “I don’t know what to do about it. Or about him.” He looked down to him, playing with the ring on the other man’s hand carefully. That was a strange thing. Xander knew them well enough by now to notice two specific things. Wilbur always had his ring on his hand, John’s always on a chain around his neck or in his pocket. It was like he was trying to make it feel less permanent, but he’d only begun to do it after he and Xander’s first… personal interaction. He couldn’t tell if it gave him hope or made him worried about what lay ahead for the three of them. He finally managed to tear his eyes away from the connected hands and to John’s face, moving to put a hand on the man’s shoulder.</p><p><br/>“It will be ok, I swear. As much as I can do to help Wilbur as a scientist, I will.” He genuinely meant it; he would shove those feelings aside. “Sorry they hit you… They don’t exactly deal well with criticism well. But it doesn’t exactly matter. We should do what’s best for Wilbur.” He noticed that there were tears in John’s eyes and frowned slightly, before being pulled into a tight hug by him. It was extremely strange for him. John didn’t hug. He didn’t show emotion. None of them were meant to. But he was, holding onto him. Xander couldn’t help but hug back. </p><p><br/>“Thank you.” John mumbled into his neck, smiling slightly, before pulling away and clearing his throat. He shouldn’t have let his emotion break out of his heavily trained stoic persona. But Xander didn’t stop himself. He stepped forwards and kissed the other man, pulling him into it.</p><p><br/>That’s when the man on the bed opened his eyes and an all-consuming rage took over. The two men jumping as they heard a gun loading.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapter 2! Woo, sorry this took forever</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. End</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His judgement was more than clouded as his eyes darted between John and Xander, index finger pressed against the trigger of his weapon. Wilbur was strangely jittery. Unaffected by his sudden jolty movements, unlike before. He was not dizzy anymore. Everything in his vison was green, all except the clear image of his husband and Xander. He pointed his gun at John, stepping closer to him. The two men stepped back, both trying to push the other man behind them. Eyes wide as they looked at Wilbur’s unreadable expression, nearing them menacingly, eyes boring into the two men. Then he laughed. It was demented and maniacal. Mind now completely broken.</p><p><br/>“I should have fucking known!” He shouted, voice strained and almost screaming. “I really should have, I mean, it’s not like I got you a job, or work myself half to death to protect you. Not like I’m your damn husband.” His hand was shaking slightly as he took another step closer, pointing the gun towards Xander’s head. John stepped in the way, putting his hand over the barrel. His voice was calm, trying to relax the deranged man before him.</p><p><br/>“Wilbur. I’m sorry, you know I am. I didn’t mean for you to see this.” He sighed; the other man scoffed, not allowing John to finish. </p><p><br/>“Clearly.” Wilbur chuckled again; he was practically cackling. He took note of John’s perplexed expression at his laughter. “It’s funny. It really is. My dreams seemed to always have a common theme, one I never shared with you. You know, it was always you leaving me, pushing me, killing me. Should have seen that it was warning me about this. You and this bastard.” He pointed at Xander with the gun. He chuckled again, advancing even more, pushing John backwards towards the door. Xander wasn’t having any of it, drawing his own weapon.</p><p><br/>“Wilbur, you don’t know what you’re getting into. John and I were an accident, and I demand that you stand down.” He pointed it at Wilbur as well. Both of them were locked on each other, glaring at each other. John idled uncomfortably. He knew he was to blame and his didn’t know what to do. The two men he loved had each other at gun point.</p><p><br/>“How is that a fucking accident Xander?!” He screamed, stepping even closer, forcing John to pull Xander away from the gun barrel again. “You always acted like I was the one in the wrong huh? You don’t care! No one in the world cares. No one cares if someone lives, if they die, that’s why I’m going to shoot you both and make a clean get away. Sorry John… But they’re telling me that this is the only way.” Xander backed up at the mention of ‘they’. He looked to John, not even PEIP was ready for other worldly beings. <br/>Wilbur was watching them with a sinister smile, waiting. Words were still rattling around in his skull.<em> Shoot him. Do it. Then you can cleanse the world</em>. <span class="u">Wait, not yet.</span> He argued back, face turning to a hard glare, but not focused on the men before him. <span class="u">Let me torment them. I can break them, don’t you want them too?</span> He took some amount of pleasure in seeing the men before him exchange anxious looks, unsure on how to approach him. </p><p><br/>“Wilbur. Listen to us, please. I know there’s something in your head… We all know, but this isn’t you.” John tried, he was rarely this diplomatic. That was Wilbur. He often ran in guns blazing and didn’t think twice. That wasn’t the case with his husband. He would do anything to try and sort this out. </p><p><br/>“Then who is it?” Wilbur asked, chuckling before lowering his gun. Xander sighed in relief, thinking they’d managed to relax him. Then he shouted when Wilbur grabbed the knife from his belt and stabbed it into John’s gut with a twisted grin.  </p><p><br/>“Sorry, love. That’s how this needs to be.” He smirked, shoving John down to the ground, his blood splattering out into the ground. He turned his gaze to Xander. “Your turn, bastard.” He stepped over his spluttering husband and gave chase as Xander ran off, terrified of the maniacal man behind him.</p><p><br/>Xander was mumbling to himself as he ran, ideas racing through his mind. There were other agents, it was only midday. But then again, all their current missions were still running. The halls were deserted, and any remaining soldiers would be dispersed so far through the building that they wouldn’t hear his shouts for help. He was a coward for running. John was dying in that lab; he had seen the blood himself. But his gut feeling was to take off from the room. It was the way that Wilbur’s eyes had been trained on him, staring into his soul with a threatening, malevolent grin. The way he so carelessly killed his own partner. The way he pointed the blood-soaked knife at him. It was so obviously not Wilbur, not one of their previously thoughtful leaders. It was a poor imitation of himself. But he hadn’t observed any physical changes. He hadn’t had time to scrutinize every aspect of Wilbur’s appearance, unlike he had previously. But he felt like something had changed about him. Apart from the shaking and nightmares they’d observed. He had heard far too much about those nightmares from time with John. No. Stop thinking about that. That was the cause of all of this. Keep running. He turned yet another corner, the halls of PEIP expanding beyond the little section he lived and worked in. The portal had been installed in the room up ahead. A room almost always locked. He tried to chase away the thoughts that came when he considered that room. Wilbur’s dreams had begun the night the portal was brought in. He said it had started weak. But the longer the portal had been open. The worse he said they got. He said something wanted him to step into the other world they had found. Xander had half a mind to shove him through, return him to the miserable landscape the voice in his head came from. But that was another cruel thought he kept locked away. That may be something this twisted version of Wilbur wanted, but the real didn’t. John may be dead, Xander couldn’t do anything that he didn’t deem right by the man he loved. He stopped still in the hall, panting. Hands braced on his knees before he noticed something strange. </p><p><br/>The door to the portal room, it was open. The control desks, the designated space by the door for the guards was empty. Where was everyone? That’s when the noise, his heart pounding in bis ears as he cooled down from his mad dash, that’s when it all cut off. A sharp, blaring alarm cutting through the wall of sound surrounding him. He tried to focus on something other than his pure terror. Which alarm was it? The organization had far to many audio signals. Not calling them to suit up. Not a meeting. Not a fire or natural disaster. It was a security breach alarm. That would be bad enough but it was no breach in sectors two or three. Something was happening in his own section of the building. Wilbur had done something else.</p><p> </p><hr/><p><br/>Wilbur was grinning. The smile looking far too unnatural on his face. Xander had been right about this being a poor impersonation of himself. But he didn’t care. He watched agents scramble out a nearby window as he leant against the desk behind him. Two men lay dead and bloody again the console, Wilbur’s hand resting nearby to a panel buttons, each labeled in case of confusion. AN error in PEIP’s systems he had exploited. He looked at the computer screen, displaying each of the actions he’d taken. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>West hall- Holding 1- Status: Full- Door: Unlocked</em>
</p><p><br/>The action repeating for every cell on that side of the building. All interruptions drawn away. He could walk into his new fate. Uninterrupted. Victorious. He tried to hold down the parts of him fighting back. This was what he was now. The green clouded, vision was normal for him now. He existed to serve another power. He looked out the window, back into the hall where PEIP agents were rushing to detain all the adversaries he had released. A bloodstained hand pressed against the window as a man bled out from a slashed throat. He chuckled once again and straightened his jacket, pulling himself off of the desk. All that was left was to dispose of the physicist. No. He hadn’t done anything wrong. His conscious was trying to fight the new presence in his mind. He couldn’t let it. The only reason he was holding off the thoughts before was John. But John wasn’t his. He was never his. He had no purpose other than leading PEIP and being John’s husband. Others could handle the former. No one would ever again get to be the latter. He left through the side door of the control room, avoiding the scuffle in order to make his way into the main hall of PEIP, not hearing carful steps behind him. He looked over to the darkened, open doors of the portal room. Strange but he was proud. This was the end of everything. Maybe he’d leave without splattering Xander’s brains across the floor but that was far too tempting. He took a few steps in. The green glow of the portal only brightened in his possessed haze. He could feel something trying to tug him away but he wouldn’t let it. Whatever was on that other side fed off of human weakness. He had proven himself not to be that. </p><p><br/>He then heard the doors shut behind him, tearing his eyes from the enticing sight before him and behind him. Xander was there, gun drawn, expression inscrutable. Wilbur broke into manic giggles once again, not drawing his own gun.</p><p><br/>“You think you can stop this? Don’t you?” He got out between laughs. “Pathetic, truly pathetic. You’re only mad because I killed your latest pursuit. My own husband. What did you expect to some of that? I’d be fine and give him over? That doesn’t even matter. Because now I mean something, far more than I did to John or you or anyone here. Have fun without me. It’s me against you now.” He turned away. He knew Xander wanted him gone. He knew he’d have conflicting feelings about letting him walk through. He knew he’d have conflicting feelings about shooting him. He would get away scot-free. But there was a third party nearby, with no qualms about destroying the man approaching the portal.<br/>Wilbur heard yet another set of footsteps enter the room. Slow and heavy. A gasp. More walking. He didn’t look back. Once he was through, he wouldn’t have to face the bastard. Get to the top of the portal, turn, shoot. Start his new life as a god. He slowly ascended the stairs, every step harder to take. The real Wilbur trying to stop him. Screaming into his mind to not fall through. The real Wilbur was terrified. He kept walking, then a hand wrapped around his own, something cool being pressed into his hand. He was forced to look up into his husband’s eyes. </p><p><br/>“I’m sorry Wilbur…” John’s eyes were cold, one hand still pressed into the wound on his stomach, Xander watching in horror. Wilbur looked around. Both parts of him in panic. He tried to focus on everything at once. A man he thought he killed was still alive. Every element of him the same, except for the lack of chain around his neck. John was pushing his own wedding ring into Wilbur’s hand. That broke him. The real Wilbur came rushing back, looking into his husband’s eyes in realization. Coming to far too late.</p><p><br/>“John-“ He began, cut off by two hands taking hold of his jacket, fistfuls of the material in his hands. John wasn’t looking in Wilbur’s eyes, he hadn’t realized it was the man he had fallen for.</p><p><br/>“Never hurt him again.” He gave Wilbur one final glare before shoving him through the green, swirling mass. Noticing far too late, the visible fear. He let out a choked sob as Wilbur disappeared. He had been so confident about that decision. Put whatever demon in his husband’s body back on the other side. But his husband was still there. He had killed him. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This took so long I am so sorry. Wanted to get it done before I went away so here we go! I like making Wilbur suffer. A lot. So I'll probably write something else with him sometime.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi! Thanks for reading. This will be updated maybe once a week but will only be three parts long as I am determined for each part to be much longer than this. This story won't be as frequent or long as my other fic but this is just something to occupy myself with until I have ideas.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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